Not Quite Iphigenia
by a thousand winds
Summary: Falan has tried to be a good daughter. She has. [Falan, Jened, Illsaide]


**Title:** Not Quite Iphigenia  
**Day/Theme:** 17th December/"Meine Tochter nimmermehr"  
**Series:** Vampire Game  
**Character/Pairing:** Falan, Jened, implied Illsaide/Falan  
**Rating:** PG

* * *

The red ball bounced against the castle wall: once, twice, three times. Falan caught it and looked proudly towards her father.

"Wonderful!" he said, clapping his hands. Falan grinned and ran to hug him. She was seven years old and the most important person in her world was her father.

* * *

Falan skipped through the courtyard, waving to Jened. He had been worried, these past weeks, and Falan was hoping that her tenth birthday might cheer him up a bit. People were always tired and upset nowadays – even Ishtar was sick, and that was why Sir Keld wouldn't let her come to the party. 

"Falan! Come here."

She went obligingly enough, smiling up at her father, and Jened placed a small wrapped box into her hands.

"I am sorry," he began as she opened the package with care, folding the paper neatly. "I had hoped to give you something better – what is it?" he broke off at Falan's cry. Falan looked up at him, her eyes bright.

"It's wonderful, Father! Help me put it on." She proffered the pendant, turning round and holding her hair away from her neck.

"I am glad you think so," she heard him say and she rolled her eyes. He could be so silly sometimes.

* * *

"Practising again, Falan?" 

Falan looked up, startled, from her music. "Father! I didn't hear you come in."

"No?" Jened smiled affectionately at her and patted her lightly on the head. "I'm glad you're so dedicated to your studies."

"Oh – not really – " Falan reddened and she smoothed the corners of her pages with a distracted hand.

"You're such a modest girl." Jened smiled at her approvingly, but this only seemed to make Falan's embarrassment worse. "Come, let me hear you play something."

Falan froze for a moment and then nodded, arranging the pages of music neatly on the stand. She stared blankly at them for a moment, moving her hands into precisely the right positions on the keys, before beginning to play a halting, fumble-fingered melody. It was, without a doubt, one of the worst renditions of the piece ever played, but Jened listened to and applauded it as if it were rendered by a maestro.

"That was beautiful," he told her with every appearance of sincerity and leant forward to kiss her cheek. "I must go and see to some papers. I hope Illsaide and his guard drills weren't disturbing your practice – would you like me to order him to move them somewhere else?"

"Oh, no. No. It's fine," Falan said hastily, smiling up at Jened. He smiled back at her.

"As long as you're happy, my dear," he said, getting up and moving to the door. "As long as you're happy."

He closed the door behind him with a soft click. Alone in the room, Falan bent her head over her music, feeling guilty.

* * *

"Illsaide?" 

"Roy said you wanted to see me." He stepped inside her chamber and closed the door with a soft click. Falan was standing by the window, the curtain clenched in one small fist. Her face was pale and set.

"Illsaide, I wanted to talk to you…"

"My lady, I – "

Falan paused. "You first," she said firmly.

"I…" Illsaide knelt, very carefully, in front of Falan and took her hand. "Princess."

"Princess!" Someone was knocking on the door; her maid by the sound of it. Falan cast an agonised glance at it. "Princess Falan!"

Illsaide stalked over to the door and flung it open, glaring at the maid as he brushed past her. Falan turned back to the window, her face vividly red.

* * *

"Father?" 

Falan paused by the door, unsure of whether to enter or not. Her father had been sensitive about this of late and she had no wish to anger him unnecessarily. She received no answer and was about to venture in when her father's voice rose out of the darkness.

"Go away, Falan. I'm working." He didn't sound as furious as he had the last time but Falan scuttled away nevertheless, trying to ignore the sting of rejection in her heart.

* * *

"Illsaide!" 

Falan felt her expression melt into a smile when she saw him in the hall below. After the tension of the last few weeks, it was a relief and a joy to see him again. He was walking rather awkwardly, she realised as she ran down the stairs to meet him. He didn't seem to hear her calling his name, either, for he kept limping towards the barracks.

"Illsaide!" she shouted, frowning.

He did not reply.

* * *

In the dungeons below the castle, Falan stood on the stone steps leading downwards and watched the chaos with a kind of numb horror. Captain Darres was in the thick of it with one hand on Ishtar's shoulder and the other gripping his sword hilt. He seemed to be trying to achieve a practical medium between killing all the monsters (and, Falan thought ridiculously, would that mean killing her father and Illsaide too?) and reasoning with them. Ishtar was yelling at Illsaide with a furious mix of disgust and sympathy and Falan looked at her, desperate for someone that she could still trust. Her fingers curled around the necklace that her father had given to her for her tenth birthday and she took her hand away quickly. 

"Illsaide," someone said, and the voice was her own, cracked and trembling. "I want you to kill my father."


End file.
